


Sexually Transmitted Paranoia

by De Orakle (Delphi)



Category: Once a Thief (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Paranoia, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-04
Updated: 1999-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-11 15:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphi/pseuds/De%20Orakle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paranoia can be contagious...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sexually Transmitted Paranoia

He never gives it a rest with those paranoid ramblings of his. Even now, when I'm giving him the kind of blowjob that's been known to melt men's minds, he's in the middle of a muttered monologue about death rays. His theory-du-jour is that they are sent not from the bug people, as he proposed last night in bed, but rather from the former Ontario Hydro, headed of course by Pierre Elliot Trudeau.

We're in the library, Nathan's Fortress of Solitude, the setting for most of our mid-afternoon trysts when the Director's pet agents aren't around to make our jobs that much more difficult. Nathan's sitting on the long, low table in the corner, I'm kneeling in front of him, and his long, lean legs are draped over my shoulders. Those dreadful khakis of his are pooled around his ankles, effectively trapping me, not that I'm complaining.

"...so um, since th-th-the intru-hu-duction of radar during World War T-t-two, which of course was started b-b-b-b..."

I stop my oral ministrations and look up at him. He's got that wild look in his eyes, and strands of his spiky billygoat hair are plastered to his forehead with sweat.

"...started by the exiled descendants of the Italian royal family in conjunction with the saucer people," I sigh. God only knows I've heard that one before.

I'm rewarded with the sight of that sweet little "boy next door with the bodies buried in his backyard" smile. That shuts him up for a moment, and he bends his knees to bring me forward once again. I smile at the sight of his hard cock jutting out of thick, dark sandy curls. Just the perfect thickness to slide into my mouth without straining my jaw, and the just the right length that if I relax my throat, I can bury my nose in the spicy-smelling thatch of hair that trails down from his navel. I take him in my mouth as he continues his insane litany.

"So...the incidence of primary bra-hain...tumours among military r-radio operators has risen b-b-by more th-than 80 p-p-p-_percent_!"

Ah, increasing the suction definitely does the trick. I work up and down and then stop. I love hearing Nathan's laboured breathing echoing through the empty resource room. His hands are clutching spasmodically at the edges of the table.

"...ngmm." A soft whimper escapes his lips.

I languidly lick the underside of his cock from the base to the head. A pearly drop of pre-ejaculate has gathered there, and I just have to stick out my tongue to taste it. So sweet.

Nathan's hips thrust up off the table. I move my hands from his thighs to hold him steady. My lips brush once more over the sensitive head of his cock, savouring the feeling of the satiny skin. My tongue probes gently into the slit, and I have to tighten my hands around his hips, pressing my fingers into the pale skin of his buttocks to keep him from flying off the table. I slowly take him millimetre by millimetre back into my mouth. His heated flesh and musky smell is driving me wild. As I get closer to the root of his cock, my right hand starts tracing closer and closer to the crease of his ass. My left hand comes forward, and I cup his testicles, gently rolling them against my palm.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, and genetic ab-abnormalities have gone up over um, 300 perce-hent i-in air-tra-tra-traffic um, ah, oh, don't stop, ah, air-traffic controllerssssss...oh yeah, ah."

Shit, he hasn't lost his place. I draw my cheeks in, sucking harder, tasting the tangy, salty sweat. I start to circle my finger around his entrance. I can tell he's torn between wanting to push down and impale himself and wanting to thrust up further into my mouth. I can't help but chuckle, the vibrations making him start to wheeze like a seventy-year-old asthmatic on a November day in the Yukon.

"Oh, oh, uh, _oh god_! Hh, the, the, the symptoms of these electro...m-magnetic wavesssss are uh, disguised to look like th-those of ah! Uhh, a-a-asbestos! There's ah, millions of th-those waves in th-the building already! D-d-d-izzinesssssss, oh! H-headaches. Oh, that feels s-so good! D-d-d-don't-t stuh-op!"

His hands are pushing into the back of my head, and I'm trying to regulate my breathing before I choke from his desperate thrusts. Still, I can think of worse ways to go. I slip my finger into his tight hole, and he clamps around it.

"Ngh!" It's pretty pathetic that the chihuahua-like yelps of a man like Nathan can turn me on, but they do.

I relax my mouth around his cock for a moment. His balls have drawn up tight against him, and he's achingly ready to come. I swallow rapidly, the muscles of my throat milking him.

"Ung, ungh, oh, _Dobrinsky_!" he all but wails as the first shot of hot ejaculate hits the back of my mouth. I swallow every drop as he falls backwards, his head hitting the table with an audible _thud_. Not the smoothest guy, my Nathan.

He lies there absolutely still, and for a moment I worry that he's knocked himself out. Again. A guy like him can't afford to sustain any more head injuries. But no, he's staring up at the ceiling with his usual post-coital spaced-out look. I place one more kiss on his softened cock, and then I unhook his legs from my shoulders and pull up his khakis and his ridiculous Star Wars underoos.

"So, uh, I just th-thought that you should know that the vending machine down the hall is sending out those, um, electromagnetic waves I was talking about. The queen of the bug people reprogrammed it the last time she was, um, there and thmmmmmmmmm...hmmm."

I kiss him hard, snaking my tongue into his mouth and letting him taste himself on my lips. I suppose there is one way to shut him up.

"I've got to get back to work," I say. "The Director's probably looking for me."

Nathan's eyes grow larger as they cast off their sleepy after-sex look. Nothing I say can make him fear the Director less, because it would be a lie. At least I know that there are none of her video cameras in Nathan's domain of records and conspiracy theory tracts. Like she says, she never watches anyone who wants to be watched. I give Nathan another quick kiss on the lips, check my clothes for unnoticed stains, and head back to my office.

On the way back through the labyrinth of curving hallways, I stop at the vending machine for a bag of chips, Nathan's rantings still running through my head. Was there always that extra little blinking light beside the coin slot?

"Oh come on," I chide myself. I know that Li Ann is as human as anyone. Still, I feel a headache starting in my temples. I avert my eyes from the machine and continue down the hall.

You can't put anything past the Agency.


End file.
